


mahogany

by unicornball



Series: Colors [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (Dean's a softie and everyone knows it but him), DWRColorsChallenge, Fluff, M/M, Mild Coarse Language, The Winchesters find a puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:50:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8280040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornball/pseuds/unicornball
Summary: Sam and Cas find something during a case.

  Geez, when Dean found out—





	

**Author's Note:**

> _Today's color:_  
>  Mahogany  
> ma·hog·a·ny (/məˈhäɡənē/)
> 
> a reddish brown color.
> 
> _This one went a bit trope-y (yanno, the ‘Cas finds a fluffy animal somewhere and sneaks it into the Bunker’ one) since I've been meaning to do one. Sam helps, too, so even more trope-y? Probably. Yay!_
> 
> _Enjoy._

Dean's idea to split up (even though they saw through his blatantly obvious ploy to shirk researching) meant Castiel and Sam hit the library while Dean questioned some locals and searched the town for food that (hopefully) wouldn't kill them.

By the third hour, the only progress Sam and Castiel made was strained eyes and exhausting the library's small occult section with little to show for it.

Sam sat back with a tired huff, squinting his eyes tightly closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He smothered a yawn with the side of his fist and leaned forward, rolling his head a few times to work out the kinks from being bent over reading for the last few hours.

He glanced across the table to see Cas squinting at an opened book, nose inches away from the small text.

Dean was right— Cas needed some glasses. (And he was a damn saint for being able to forget Dean's leer and his next internet search for librarian porn he didn't bother to clear from the history.)

“Find anything?” Sam asked, closing the book and stacking it with the others.

Castiel shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. They felt hot and gritty, not a pleasant feeling. It was times like this, feeling the lesser pleasant effects of humanity, he almost missed his Grace.

He closed his own book. His back ached from sitting in the same position for so long. He leaned back in the chair a little, groaning quietly at the series of pops and cracks.

He could tell Sam was done, too. They hadn't found anything useful. It'd been a long shot that they would but they'd all agreed it was worth looking before making the four hour drive back to the Bunker’s well stocked library.

“Alright, let’s go,” Sam said, pushing back his chair. He gathered the books, stacking them carefully as Cas did the same thing across the table. They made quick work of reshelving the books and headed out.

They both stretched again as they stood out front, rubbing their eyes as they adjusted from the lights inside to the setting dusk. Dean had the car, so they were walking. Sam didn't care, looking forward to the chance for fresh air and stretching his legs, and Cas hadn't commented about it since the library wasn't far from the motel they picked for the night.

Castiel took a moment to enjoy the fresh air before catching up with Sam, falling into step with him easily. They didn't get far when they heard a strange sound coming from the narrow space between a small deli and a tobacco store. They stopped walking and shared a look.

It was likely something worth looking into. Just as likely nothing, something as ordinary as a rat or something, but they couldn't just walk by without checking it out.

Castiel was quick to move to Sam's left when he saw Sam turn towards the sound and one hand dipped to where he kept his gun, the other going for one of his knives.

He did the same, feeling the curious heightened-senses fueled by adrenaline as they moved into the darkened space, eyes flicking rapidly to every shadow, ears perked for sounds.

They both startled, drawing their guns, when something moved less than two feet away.

Castiel was the first to react, sidestepping so he could get a better view of what—

“ _Oh_ ,” he said, voice shaking with fading adrenaline, soft with wonder and shock. “Sam, it's alright,” he added, quickly putting his weapons away. His hands were shaking a little and he slid them into his coat pockets.

Sam cautiously put his own weapons away, giving Cas a curious look. He looked spooked, which was really damn weird considering what they did for a living and he'd put his weapons away anyway.

He stepped closer and stared, feeling just as shaken as Cas looked when he looked down at what had drawn them down a dark alley.

.

They made it back to the motel before Dean, both heading to Sam's room by unspoken agreement. The moment the door was unlocked, they hurried inside. Sam was quick to close and lock the door, meeting Cas’ eyes and trying not to look, or feel, guilty.

Geez, when Dean found out—

Castiel carefully removed his trench coat. Sam was watching, alternating between nervously wringing his hands and running his hands through his hair. He wanted to reassure him, but his attention was on getting his arms free.

“Cas.”

Castiel looked up, smiling a little. He carefully shifted on his feet. “I know,” he said, nearly rolling his eyes at Sam's nerves. “We won't tell Dean. Yet,” he added when Sam continued to look guilty, pushing his hair back in a nervous gesture again, his forehead creased and eyes troubled.

Sam stepped closer when Cas got his coat off, leaning in when Cas lifted his sweater. Sam watched as he revealed the ball of dirty brown fur curled up, sleeping peacefully and looking adorable. Skinny and filthy, but still adorable. He let out an involuntary ‘ _Aww_ ’ when a floppy ear twitched and the puppy made a sleepy yip.

“Dean is gonna freak,” he whispered, petting the soft spot between the puppy's ears. It made an adorable little happy sound and one paw gave a sleepy flick.

Castiel sighed softly and reluctantly nodded his agreement. He knew Dean wouldn't be happy with them taking in a dog, a very young dog barely old enough to be away from its mother and littermates.

Neither of them had the heart to leave the small animal where they'd found it; shivering, filthy, and hungry in a dark alley. It didn't take long to get the puppy closer to them, Castiel bundling it in his sweater to keep it warm once he'd calmed the animal.

Sam had watched, smiling, when Cas had finally managed to get the puppy close, picking it up in a gentle grip, eyes wide with happy surprise. He'd nearly laughed when Cas had lifted the squirming puppy to eye level, meeting warm brown eyes, and said “We don't wish to harm you” in his serious voice, pitched soft and soothing.

The puppy's squirming stopped and it leaned in to lick Cas’ nose. Sam did lose it, laughing when Cas’ eyes went wide and he gave Sam a bright eyed look of shocked joy.

They'd asked around but no one claimed the dog or knew where it came from. When they talked to the owner of the local dry cleaners, she said she thought she'd seen someone dump a litter of puppies earlier that day. Her face creased with concern and guilt when she said she'd hadn't been able to look into it further since she'd had steady business since she opened. She gave them both a pleading look when she said she called her daughter to come look, ready to bring them to the local shelter if needed.

After a stop for puppy food, shampoo and other essentials, they headed back to the motel. They spent the walk back to the motel quiet, both stealing glances at the sleeping puppy. Sam wasn't exactly surprised it was sleeping, comfortable in Cas’ hold.  
  
“Okay,” Sam said quietly, gently shaking the puppy awake. They needed to feed and bathe it before Dean came back. Showing him a filthy puppy would make the chances of all three of them being homeless too damn likely. “I'll get the sink ready for a puppy bath.”

He dug the bottle of puppy shampoo out of the plastic shopping bag he'd dumped by the door. He read over the directions and tried not to feel overwhelmed by the prospect of bathing a tiny puppy. How hard could it be?

By the end of it, he was drenched from shoulders to knees and Cas wasn't looking much better. The puppy was dripping, looking miserable with its fur in wet clumps and a little pissed off at being wet. But it was clean. The puppy shook itself, ears flapping as water sprayed them again.

At least it wasn't dirty, soapy water this time.

Castiel grabbed one of the motel towels and lifted the puppy from the sink, gently rubbing and tousling the towel over wet fur to dry it. The puppy's head poked out, panting softly.

Sam laughed as its eyes closed and enjoyed the attention, tongue hanging out. By the time Cas was done, the puppy seemed to have a second wind, wriggling until Cas set it down so he wouldn't drop it. The moment its small paws hit the faded carpet, it started rolling around, wriggling its back into the carpet and snuffling excitedly.

Now that the puppy wasn't filthy and starting to dry, its fur was fluffy and a lovely mahogany, glints of red highlights shining bright when the light hit it just right.

Castiel watched the puppy wriggle and roll, then running around in tight circles, smiling. He dried himself off a little, blotting at his damp shirt with the towel.

“I'll prepare the puppy's food if you want to change,” he offered, nodding at Sam's wet clothes.

Sam nodded and headed to his duffle, pulling out something soft and comfortable. He didn't plan on going anywhere else tonight, might as well get comfortable. He clapped Cas on the shoulder as he headed to the bathroom. Cas was watching the puppy with a smile but he still looked troubled.

“Don't worry, Cas. Dean will throw a tantrum at first but he won't be a jerk about it for long.”

Castiel merely nodded, sighing softly when the bathroom door closed behind Sam.

He knew Dean wouldn't be unreasonable when they explained the situation; Dean truly had a soft, caring heart even if he tried to hide it. But he was still worried, nervous Dean would still flat out refuse with a firm, loud “dammit, no dogs!”. He didn't look forward to finding out how long Dean would hold a grudge, either.

He managed to get the small collar on a wriggling puppy, dodging the puppy's playful paws and gently discouraging playful nips. He stood and scrounged the room for a suitable food dish, aware of the puppy following him curiously before going back to rolling and wiggling on the carpet making small, playful growls and yips. He figured the ice bucket lid would do and popped the lid on the can of puppy food. He chuckled when the puppy's head perked up from his place on the carpet, ears flopping. He was quick to get to his feet and rushed over, gait clumsy and uncoordinated, yipping excitedly.

Castiel looked down at the puppy when it hopped up on hind legs, front paws seeking purchase on his calf. He chuckled as the puppy bounced energetically, yipping and pawing at him excitedly. He managed to get the food in the make-shift bowl and narrowly avoided a bouncing puppy skull to the chin as he bent down to place the food on the floor.

Sam came out of the bathroom just as the puppy was circling the lid, tail wagging as he licked it clean.

He eyed the empty ‘food dish’, then the puppy licking its muzzle and looking up at them hopefully. “Think he's still hungry?”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed. “But I don't think it's wise to give it more food at the moment. Too much too soon isn't a good idea.”

Sam nodded his agreement and sat on the bed. The puppy scrambled over, standing up and placing his front paws on Sam's shin. He bent over to pet the puppy's head, scratching behind one ear and making the puppy's tongue loll out with bliss. The puppy rolled onto its back, paws flopping lazily. He chuckled and obligingly scritched the puppy's rounded belly.

Oh. And it was a boy.

He looked at Cas, ready to plan what to do next, when he heard the impala's engine. His eyes widened and the panic came back.

Castiel looked out the window, smiling despite his own nerves when he saw Dean climb out of the driver's side. He was carrying two paper food bags and he looked pretty chipper.

He nearly crossed his fingers and hoped the good mood would work to their advantage. He watched Dean head right to Sam's room, lips pursed as he whistled happily, swinging his keys around his index finger as his shoulders moved in rhythm with the tune he was whistling. He nearly sighed like the lovesick idiot Dean teased him for being. (He didn't take offense when Dean quietly admitted he was the same, right after telling him ‘never to tell Sam’—as if he even needed to.)

Sam scooped up the puppy and stared at the door wide-eyed, waiting for Dean. The puppy wriggled playfully in his lap and he stroked a hand down his back, tickling his belly through the soft mahogany fur when the puppy wiggled onto its back again.

Dean knocked on the door with a cheerful “open sesame, Sammy!”. Sam and Castiel shared a wide-eyed look of panic. Dean knocked again, the muted sound of paper crinkling as he shifted the bags to the other hand. “Cas? You in there?”

“One moment!” Castiel yelled into the wood. Sam was scrambling, trying to get the puppy tucked up under his sleep shirt. The moment the fluffy tail was hidden from view, Castiel fumbled with the security chain and opened the door.

Dean breezed in with a cheerful wink at Cas, sliding a hand over his waist and pressing as kiss to a stubbled cheek in passing as he headed for the tiny desk-slash-table. He plopped the bags down and rolled his shoulders before sliding his jacket off. He'd spent too long on some lady's stiff parlor sofa and his back wasn't happy about it.

It took a moment for him to sense the awkward tension in the room. Cas and Sam were tense, eyes darting to each other before staring at him. He looked between them, catching another round of eyeball Morse code but having no clue what the message was.

“What's up with you two?”

Castiel was the first to speak, stepping forward when Sam made a last plea with his eyes for him to take this one.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean frowned a little. “Yeah, hey, Cas. What's going on?” he repeated, looking between Cas and Sam again. He stumbled back a step when he realized Sam’s stomach was bulging out. And it was _moving_.

“Sam?”

Sam sighed and fished the puppy out. Dean looked ready to grab a knife and stab something... He didn't want that to be him or the puppy. He silently held the puppy up, gaze dropping to Dean's boots.

Castiel stepped closer, resting a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean looked more surprised than anything. But he had a feeling that was only good until the shock wore off.

“What is _that_?” Dean demanded, pointing a finger at the wriggling fluff ball in Sam's hand.

“It’s a puppy, Dean.”

Dean sucked his teeth and glared at Cas. “I know it's a puppy, dammit. What's it doing _here_?” Sam and Cas shared another look and he groaned, waving his hands and shook his head. “No, c’mon—”

“We couldn't just leave him there, Dean,” Sam said, bringing the puppy close and cuddling it protectively. He twitched and smothered a surprised laugh when a warm wet tongue dragged across his jaw. “Dumped there, alone and scared. Dirty and hungry.”

Dean huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to be swayed by the sob story. It was sad, yeah, but that didn't make it their job to take it in. They weren't exactly the prime example of what was an ideal home for a dog.

“We already had this talk, Sam.” Sam hung his head sheepishly but didn't look like he'd be letting go of the ball of fluff any time soon. He looked to Cas for backup (because it was totally a perk to this whole couple thing to always have Cas on _his_ side), but Cas was resolutely not looking at anything but the bags of food.

He huffed. “Dogs don't exactly go with what we do. We don't—”

“We have a home now,” Castiel said quietly before Dean could continue. Sam had mentioned Dean's main complaint was ‘no dogs in the impala, Sam’ but he knew Dean well enough he thought Dean was just unwilling to admit he was more concerned with the sort of life a dog would have with them; always on the road, stuck in a car or a motel room all the time.

Castiel look a deep breath when Dean looked at him, lips and eyebrows pinched but otherwise looking like he was listening. Reluctant but listening.

Dean closed his eyes with a soft groan. Cas was right, of course, but that didn't mean he had to like, or acknowledge, it. He knew Sam wanted a dog since he was old enough to see other people with them and wanted something normal. But he didn't think Cas was all that interested in having a pet, even though he knew Cas liked animals well enough.

Sam saw the moment Dean’s shoulders slumped a little and moved in, seeing his moment. He brought the puppy up higher and stepped on close to where Dean and Cas were having a stare-off. He cleared his throat and held the puppy up when Dean finally looked away from Cas to scowl at him for interrupting their moment.

He shared a look with Cas and then they both turned to Dean.

“Oh, fuck you all,” Dean muttered when he saw he was getting _three_ sets of puppy eyes—all trained on him and making him want to squirm. He closed his eyes and tried to hold onto his resolve.

But it was useless. Cas and Sam both knew him well enough to know the moment he'd cracked. And the damn furball probably smelled his weakness, too. It squirmed out of Sam's hands and practically leapt at him.

It was just a reflex to catch it, he didn't actually care.

He groaned again when he looked into liquid brown eyes, a tiny pink tongue lolling out as the puppy panted happily. And dammit, it was cute.

“You both suck,” Dean muttered when he found himself petting soft mahogany fur, rubbing one warm, floppy ear. He couldn't help the smile when the puppy flopped onto its back and pawed at him until he went in for the belly rubs.

Son of a bitch, what had he become.

He looked up to see Sam and Cas grinning at him; Sam with smug triumph and Cas with soft affection that made him feel warm and light enough to not regret giving in.

Dean handed the puppy to Cas, completely unsurprised when the puppy yipped happily as he squirmed into Cas’ hold, fluffy tail wagging a mile a minute, and started licking his chin. He made a mental note to make sure Cas washed off the puppy slobber before any more kissing happened.

“Any messes it makes are on you two,” he said firmly, pointing between an enthusiastically nodding Cas and Sam. He grit his teeth when he felt like a damn TV-dad cliché but he didn't mind as much when Cas gave him a look and touched his arm meaningfully, gaze heated and warm at the same time.

He was looking forward to when they got back to their own room for the night.

They finally got around to eating and the puppy had another small meal when he started dancing and barking at Cas when he started eating. (Dean laughed at the puppy's ecstatic dance when he smelled the food—then flipped off Sam when he said they had the same eating habits).

Dean watched the puppy circle and paw at one of the spare towels before it flopped down with a sleepy huff. It was a tiny ball of fluff and he smothered the urge to ‘awww’. Because it _was_ cute. Relatively quiet when he wasn't demanding attention for something or other.

He sat next to Cas on the spare bed, gazing thoughtfully at the sleeping puppy. They were gonna need a better bed and proper food and water dishes. A better leash, too, since the one Sam got was cheap and thin and too short for the little guy to get enough slack for a decent lead to sniff and piss on everything.

He pulled out his phone and looked up the best brand of puppy food—the little guy was skin and bones. Something that would make his coat shiny, too, since it would probably stay long. And brushes, no sense in letting the little guy look a mess.

By the time he was looking into car safety gear for dogs, Sam was talking with Cas about schedules and what to do with the puppy on hunts (‘he comes with, Sam. He's small enough to sneak in motel rooms when needed’) or if he'd need special training (‘I don't think we should overlook the importance of specialized training’ that Dean figured meant sniffing out demons or how to shut up and hide so he wasn't werewolf chow if they got ambushed).

“What're we naming it, anyway?” Dean wondered aloud, looking up. Sam and Cas shared a look again and shrugged. “I like Lemmy,” he said with a grin.

The looks he got from Sam and Cas made it clear they didn't. Oh well. They needed something to talk about during the drive home tomorrow, anyway.

 


End file.
